You know what's a very strange feeling?
Missing someone you never met.
I'll explain:
As most of you probably already know, I've been digging into my family history a lot lately. I have vague memories of some of my mom's aunts from years ago, but other than that I don't remember anyone older than my parents' generation (except my paternal grandparents). My mom's dad died when she was five. Her mom died when I was three (I remember her only from pictures...and I've written about her death on this blog before). My dad's parents both died when I was in high school, five months apart. As far as great aunts and uncles go, I didn't know any of them. I know many of them died in the 90s, and even into the 2000s, but I never had the privilege of knowing them. I remember one great aunt on my mom's side and there's where it ends.
This past weekend, my uncle let me borrow a suitcase full (literally) of old pictures and newspaper articles from when his mom and aunt died. He and my mom both went through them with me and I still don't know who most of the people are. I can tell you this, though: I miss the hell out of some of them.
Apparently back in the day, my family used to have a ton of picnics. There are tons of pictures of them all together, seemingly having a good time. Now, I know enough about the family history to know that things were ugly a lot of the time, but the point is that they were in each other's lives. I have dozens of cousins I never see anymore...many of them with children I've never even met. And I can remember the days when the family got along and we all got to see each other on holidays and family events. Those days are long in the past, though. As the youngest cousin on my mom's side, I missed out on a lot. There are quite a few pictures of my grandmother with all of her grandchildren...before I was born. And since I was so young when she died, there really aren't any of me with her (there is one that I remember with me and her and my two older female cousins...I have no idea where that is). I miss her less than I miss my mom's dad, though, which strikes me as very odd. I never knew him. My mom barely knew him. But, that's exactly my point. At least with my grandmother, my mom has stories to tell. I don't remember her well, but I still know her, through stories from my mom. I have none of those for my grandfather. He didn't live long enough to see a single grandchild born. But, I look at these pictures of him and he looks so much like my uncle it's crazy. And it makes me sad. He looks so happy in all the pictures with my grandmother. He had six children who he didn't get to see grow up. He has a flock of grandchildren he never got to meet. And my curiosity gets the best of me. Who was he? What was he like? What did he sound like? What were some of his favorite things to do? What was his relationship like with his family (who I know even less about)? He feels like this great mystery in my life, and it bums me out sometimes.
Depression has been getting to me a lot over the course of this project. At first, they were just names and dates and people who I didn't know. And then the deeper I dug and the more stuff I uncovered, they became real to me. I started feeling the sadness of all of the babies that were lost, of all of the husbands and wives lost, of all of those sons and fathers sent to war. They weren't just names. They were people with families, with people who loved them, people who mourned them, people who miss them. Each of them a unique personality with their own strengths, their own flaws, and their own story. Each time I find a death certificate, I wonder about the people they left behind. How old were their children? Did their parents outlive them? Did their widow move on? Most of these questions I'll never know the answer to, and I suppose I don't really need to, but it's been so strange to me to see how much of this I'm internalizing. How much of these people, who I am a part of, are beginning to effect my everyday life.
And I think about my cousins a lot. The ones I see and the ones I don't see. I notice so many of my Facebook friends talk about their cousins and how great friends they are, etc., and I just never had that. On my mom's side, there were three girls, and I was the youngest of them by more than a decade. The other two were only a few years apart. I spent my childhood surrounded by boys, who liked to tease me and exclude me. I'm not blaming them. We were kids. Kids are stupid, and annoying, and mean. I just wish we could have had the same kinds of relationships I see people have with their cousins now. Is it because I'm so much younger than the rest of them? Did the whole cousin/grandchild/niece thing lose its luster by the time I came around? Who knows? I know now that I get to play with their children and get to know them, but it's still only occasionally. Why don't we have picnics anymore? Why don't I have my cousins' phone numbers, and know where they live, and hang out with them? Do other families do that, or am I making this up based on a selection of pictures from the past? Until I saw these pictures, I didn't realize how much of a family I missed out on. My mom's parents and my dad's parents were in their forties by the time they were born, so my grandparents were older than most. Ben's grandmother is still alive, in her 80s (he's 36). My paternal grandparents died in their 80s nearly twenty years ago. He's met his great-grandparents. My dad's grandfather died in 1933. I used to think it was normal to lose your grandparents at a young age. Having "old" grandparents seemed the norm to me, but the older I get, the less sense that makes. Especially since back then, people had children so young.
In any case, I guess I'm just lamenting my "baby of the family" status. It's never a title I enjoyed much, and I know it still makes my mom a little sad that my brother and I missed out on so much. But, it is what it is. This is my family. The ones I know are mostly good people. The ones I never got to know were probably also good people. And they clearly loved each other. I just wish I could have been a part of that love.
